


Wayward

by silverbirch



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverbirch/pseuds/silverbirch
Summary: Alex Vorkosigan has a problem - when your Da is the most relentless man in the entire universe, how do you tell him what you want, and what you don't?





	1. The Heir to the Throne

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of a planned series revolving around Alex Vorkosigan loosely titled _Alex Vorkosigan Being Gay As Hell On Barryar_. I'm maybe not great at naming things. This is all fulldaysdrive's fault, incidentally, if you're looking for someone to blame.
> 
> I have fudged the ages of the children a smidge, but in my defense Lois McMaster Bujold's characters breed like teen bunnies and I can't keep track of all of them. For one thing, I'm pretty sure there's at least nine Cordelias in there somewhere.

Alex Vorkosigan didn’t notice things, sometimes.

It had rather alarmed his father at times, but then Da had a firm belief that everything and everyone in his immediate proximity (a bubble that extended several hundred kilometers in every direction) required his full and undivided attention as a prelude to potential meddling. Alex loved Da, of course he did, but he did find the Count rather…much at times.

He’d broached the topic to Grandma Cordelia, and been subsequently drowned in a spate of high-accuracy insight into his psyche that he found a little...intrusive.

It was just that he had Da to take care of the world outside his body, and Helen to interfere with anything Da missed, and Selig and Simone and Elizabeth and Taura and…and the retreat into books was probably understandable, his mother had told him. Da was too hyper, Grandma too pointed, Helen too bossy, Aunt Alys too terrifying, Uncle Ivan prone to twisting all teenagerly inquiries into drawn out tales of his sexual exploits, Aunt Tej dropping hair-raising personal anecdotes that cemented his desire to never, ever, _ever_ travel to Jackson’s Whole…but Mother was just right. Just right for Alex, in her quiet way, the way she was just right for everyone, even Da at his most insane. She simply dealt with his occasional lapses of attention, and understood that sometimes things escaped his notice.

So when Alex came downstairs, dressed in a pair of drawstring pants and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found the entire house was full of children. _And he had no idea why._

Clutching his bound folio of _I quattro libri dell'architettura_ to his bare chest with an air of maidenly upset, he retreated up the stairs to observe, with dismay, the high-decibel horde below.

There was Big Cordelia (Aunt Elena) playing some sort of laser tag game with little Cordelia (Aunt Delia, really Grandma, how many namesakes do you _need_?), along with Taura and Selig. Elena-Cordelia was mopping the floor with them, naturally, since she was twenty-two and a mercenary lieutenant. His step-brother’s twins, Vassily and Victoire, were shrieking like the bizarre goblin-hamsters they were. There were easily five more down there he couldn’t readily identify, though with the way Da’s friends bred they could be practically anyone. There was a great big one that looked like a prepubescent Roic, holding up a wall and looking awkward.

Helen breezed past him, fully dressed, with a pleasant “Good morning,” that trailed off as he grabbed her arm and dragged her upstairs.

“Helen,” he hissed in dismay “what the _fuck!?_ ”

“ _Language_ , brother. It’s eight in the morning.”

“Don’t go all Aunt Alys on me! Why is my stately manse full of children? Did the Vobarr Sultana Orphanage burn down? I feel like I would have read about that.”

“Everyone’s in town, silly,” she said.

“Why? Dear God, why? A charity ball? Because the Vobarr Sultana orphanage burned down?”

“For Da’s 50th, of course,” Helen said, extricating herself and somehow navigating the sea of children with a serenity he frankly envied.

“Oh,” Alex said quietly, staring after her.

_Oh god. Must escape. Must flee. Safe harbor. Where?_

Since he couldn’t leave the planet without Impsec getting its collective knickers in a twist, that left only one place.

***

Armsman Panos led him through the airy modernity of Vorbretten house. Alex, as much as he loved traditional architecture, loved modern en-suite plumbing and an absence of Vorkosigan crested barf-bugs in the walls more.

“Lord Vorkosigan to see you, Lord Sebastien,” Armsman Panos intoned formally.

Seb, lowering the bow of his violin, replied with equal gravity “Thank you, Panos. That will be all.”

The second son, Seb’s room was only slightly less palatial than his elder brother’s upstairs, but it hardly mattered, since two of the walls were entirely glass and offered a peerless view of the city and it contained his favorite person in the entire world.

Sebastian kept his flawless patrician features carefully schooled, blond brows artfully raised, until Armsman Panos closed the door behind him. With an undignified holler, he tossed the violin across the room (thankfully, it landed on his bed, since it was made in the Time of Isolation and cost god knew how many thousands of marks) and threw himself at Alex.

“Ack- Seb-“ Alex laughed, trying to fend him off.

“That,” Seb said, planting a kiss on Alex’s jaw when his mouth proved inaccessible “is absolutely no way to greet me.” Seb’s clever hands, so adroit with about ten different musical instruments, was already making quick work of the buttons on Alex’s shirt.

“Two weeks, you’ve been gone for _two weeks-“"_ Seb said.

“I was down in the district with Da-“ Alex managed before Seb shut him up with an extremely thorough kiss.

“Yes,” Seb said, steering Alex towards the bed. “I know, forestry, radiation cleanup, mead, _Da just drives me crazy,_ so fascinating. Hassadar urban renewal. Stranglevines. Vitner's Guild strikes. This is _absolutely_ what we should be talking about right now. Speak Countly to me, lover.”

“I’m sorry was out of tou-“ Alex gasped as Seb, damn his impertinence, abandoned his flapping lips as a lost cause and concentrated on his neck instead.

Alex’s long sigh ended in a yelp as Seb bit his neck. Hard.

“That is technically assault on a Count’s heir you know. High treason!”

 “That is for not talking to me for two weeks, ass! The Council of Counts would never convict me.”

“I was in-“

“Fabulous modern invention, been around for about eight hundred years. Called a comconsole. Vorkosigan Surleau has six of them. Your house in Hassadar, no fewer than seventeen.”

“It’s just…Da was there.”

One of the wonderful things about Seb was that, being beautiful, he wanted everything else to be beautiful too. Which meant that he didn’t tend to start fights, even when he wanted to. Even when he probably should have.

“Alex…”

“I know, I know, _I know._ ”

“You’re lucky I missed you,” Seb said ruefully, pushing him down on the bed. Alex made sure the violin was well out of range.

“We can talk…later?” Alex said hopefully. The Cetas certainly knew their genetic manipulation, because at one-sixteenth ghem Seb was gorgeous even when staring directly up his nose.

“Much later,” Seb murmured quietly, stretching out to join him.

***

Much later proved to be much, _much_ later, as they watched the bustle of the city outside, Alex and Seb so thoroughly entangled that it would take an Impsec forensics team to separate them.

“I’m not asking you to tell him about…” Seb visibly swallowed the word _us._ “But you definitely need to tell him about the other thing. The school thing.”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnng,” Alex said, or rather whined, into Seb’s bare chest. “It’s…one’s just as bad as the other. Not bad! I mean…”

“Not Countly. Yeah, I get it,” Seb said, scowling slightly.

“Don’t make that face. You’ll get wrinkles.”

“No I won’t. Look at my Da.”

That was a point. Count Vorbretten had been Alex’s…ninth crush, as an adolescent? After Armsman Roic and slightly before that kind of high-strung fellow that visited with Uncle Ivan sometimes.

“Thank God,” Alex said. “You’ll be hot forever.”

“You turn eighteen in…”

“Three months.”

“Three months,” Seb said. “The conversation is coming whether you want it or not.”

Alex experimented “Da, I don’t want to go to the Imperial Service Academy.”   

“More forceful.”

“Da, I will _not_ go to the Imperial Service Academy.”

 “Explain why!”

“Because I want to go to Vorbarr Sultana University and study architecture,” Alex said, squeaking a tiny bit.

“You also might want to add ‘so I can be with my fabulously handsome boyfriend and we can have wild, Betan-style sex every spare minute of the day’.”

“Have you ever seen my Da try to process something he wasn’t anticipating? It’s like his brain gets a boot disk error.”

Seb let it rest. At some point, Alex knew, he was going to have to return to Vorkosigan house. But he really, really didn’t want to.

“Can I move in with you?” Alex said plaintively.

“Sure,” Seb agreed affably “though your Da might start to put two and two together at that point. And you can’t have any closet space.”

“You are the _worst._ ”

“Phrasing correction: I am the _best_. Common error.”

“I love you,” Alex said, barely a whisper.

“I know you do, little idiot,” Seb said fondly, stroking Alex’s wiry hair “I know you do.”

***

Alex was in the process of trying to force his way through the baby platoon (thinking fondly to himself that in a just and caring world, he’d be equipped with a military stunner and body armor) when he noticed Pym, stern and elderly, standing by the door, as he did for truly honored guests.

“Pym?” Alex said, trying to remove Vassily from his left leg and one of the Galeni children from his right. He couldn’t remember the name. Rebina? Rebecca? Someone’s dead aunt. “Is someone…?”

“Yes, Lord Vorkosigan,” Pym said.

“How many children…?”

“Just the one.”

Pym opened the door with great formality. Striding inside, looking entirely too debonair for fifty…

“Uncle Ivan!”

“Yes, hello Alex,” Ivan said, taking in the phalanx of children with a subtle, well-bred blanch “Sins of the Firsters, what the hell…?”

“Welcome back to Barryar, Ambassador Vorpatril,” Pym said with a bow.

“Pym,” Ivan said with a nod “Come on in, Tej. Uh…brace yourself.”

Lady Vorpatril, who even through the jump-lag and the extremely conservative High Vor daywear looked like something tumbled from a pasha’s harem, stared hollowly at the writhing, yelling biomass before her, “Hello, Lord Vorkosigan,” she said “Ah, Pym...?”

“Please show us to our chamber, Pym. Tej is jump-lagged something fierce.”

“Yes, of course. And what about…?”

“Hm. Yes. Alex,” Ivan said, with a suave, boyish smile that really should have been retired about a decade and a half ago “say hello to your cousin. You two need to catch up. Badly. Right now.”

“Ah-“

"Padma Shiv! Get your butt in here!”

Another child – because that was what Vorkosigan house needed desperately, _more children_ -skidded through the open doors at a dead run, screeching to a halt that made Alex wince a bit for his mother’s beautiful mosaic floor.

Padma Shiv Vorpatril was barely ten, still sort of…amorphously child-shaped, shortish and brownish. A bit of gangle to his limbs promised he’d grow tall, though, but at the moment what one noticed were his sherry-colored eyes, very much like his mother’s.

The other thing one noticed was that the little git _never stopped talking._

“Gosh!” Padma Xav said, before launching himself at Alex. It was much cuter when Seb did it.

“Alex! Alex! Alex Alex Alex Alex Alex!”

“Well you two catch up,” Uncle Ivan said with a hearty, Falco-esque chortle as he made an immediate bolt for the stairs, asking Pym in an undertone if the suite had a lock on the door, and did the windows latch from the inside.

“Hello Pa-“

“It’s been so long! I haven’t been in Vorkosigan House since…” Champagne colored eyes darted around so fast that _Alex_ got dizzy “…it’s been seven hundred and forty-six standard galactic days! Since Aunt Cordelia and Sort-Of-Uncle Oliver visited from Sergyar. Before that, it was three hundred and seventeen-“

“Padma-“

“Daddy was ambassador at Kibou-Daini until three months ago. That was boring, and I don’t know why we spent any time there and Daddy said the whole thing felt like a _totally pointless exercise_ but I made a friend, he promised to send me a message do you know where the comconsole is his name is Jin Vorlynkin which I think is kind of a silly name I mean I think there’s already a Vorlynkin Gin-“

There was, and it was foul and unspeakable rotgut, and Alex very much wished he had an entire bottle of it _right now please._

“But he’s going to school soon to be a doctor of xenozoology which is so cool but sometimes I think I want to be a scientist like Uncle Amiri or a security expert like Aunt Star or a Space Pirate like Granda Shiv or a dancer like Uncle Jet and Aunt Emerald and Aunt Rish and Aunt Ruby and Aunt Pearl and-“

Over Padma’s chattering head, Alex saw unexpected salvation. Da, leaning heavily on his cane, followed by Uncle Duv. Business, not pleasure, since he was wearing his Auditor chain.

 _Da, help!_ Alex mouthed, desperately. Da’s expression didn’t change, and Uncle Duv wore his default face, of equal parts equipoise and mild constipation.

“And Da says that he’s now the Ambassador to Beta Colony, and he and Ma are excited, and Ma said that they should be able to expense their LPSTs to the Imperium and I looked up what an LPST is and now I just have more _questions-“_

Not for a hidden bunker full of Occupation gold was Alex going to touch _that_ one. He’d already commissioned Grandma to fill Selig in on the details once puberty descended.

“Nephew!” Da boomed. Like a rogue planet returning to its original orbit, Padma Shiv span in place – with, Alex had to admit, a certain balletic grace- and hollered “UNCLE MILES!” at a pitch that Alex swore only old Earth bats should achieve.

Padma Shiv’s ambush hug was gentler, since Da was clearly suffering. Even in just the last few years, his hair was much whiter and his walk much slower.

(The last time Uncle Mark and Aunt Kareen had visited, Alex remembered, Mark had spent most of the welcome-home dinner completely silent, staring at his increasingly frail progenitor brother. The next morning Alex had seen servants carrying a smashed table out of Uncle Mark’s suite, Kareen claiming it had broken in a fall, but Alex had seen the bruises on Uncle Mark’s hands, and the desperate… _something_ in his eyes.)

“How are you, Padma my boy?”

“Good! Great! Jin says hi. Also, technically we’re third cousins. I think.”

“Second cousins once removed, I think. Follow me, lad, I think Ma Kosti left some treats on the sideboard, Duv and I barely touched them…”

Da and Padma Shiv left the room, chatting about genealogy. Uncle Duv watched them go, the faintest suggestion of a smirk on his face.

“You know,” he said, either to Alex or to the air, with Uncle Duv it was hard to tell “they say that the best curse to wish on someone is that they have six children just like them. I think the best curse for Ivan is to have one child just like _Miles._ ”

“On the rest of us, as well. One Da is enough, and there’s already two of him.”

“Mm. Just getting back from Vorbretten House?  How was young Lord Sebastien?”

Alex stared at Uncle Duv, who had clearly been taking bland lessons from Uncle Simon.

“You know, there’s days when I really hate ImpSec.”

“Fair enough. You’d probably hate being assassinated more,” Duv said equitably.

“There’s other ways to get information. For example, I was talking to Lord Vorbarra the other day. Apparently the Viceroy of Komarr is getting tired, and wants to go home. Lots of speculation around the supper table. Empress Laisa is of the opinion that a co-appointment would be good, as it worked such wonders for Sergyar. Maybe a mixed couple, Komarran and Barrayaran. Good gesture of peace and reconciliation, she says.”

A very faint tic thumped on Uncle Duv’s forehead, but other than that he was perfectly expressionless.

“You,” he said, pointing a finger “are _not_ a very nice young man.”

“Shame. Well, you could always let one of those assassins through.”

Uncle Duv gave one of those lazy analyst salutes, which Alex returned. He and Uncle Duv had always enjoyed one another.

                ***

Locked safely in his third-floor suite, Alex finally relaxed when Seb’s face appeared on the giant screen on his comconsole.

“Alex, my love, it’s been…” Seb glanced at his chrono “thirty-eight minutes.”

“I know. But it’s been a very _stressful_ thirty-eight minutes, Seb.”

“Well I really need to practice, but I _am_ listening.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

Alex talked, about the house full of guests, and Da, and mini-Da, and…things about the District, and all the things he found it completely impossible to talk to with anyone else. Which was everything, because it was so goddamned hard to get a word in edgewise, hedged on every size by world-changing adults who were content to rest on their considerable laurels, to whom he would always be the second generation, the hand waiting for the torch… Through it all, Seb played something haunting and lovely on his violin, very quietly. He’d switched out for his electric, which had the virtue of a volume control and not being a handmade relic costing a bloody fortune.

“Alex, love, I’m going to say something rude.” Seb said, pausing for the moment.

“What, does this shirt not go with these pants or something?”

“Oh, ha ha, very funny. Though seriously, Alex, earth tones aren’t the only thing on the spectrum. But what you’re saying regarding your da? Bullshit,” Seb said “look…you know my granda died young, right?”

“Yeah.”

“My Da…can’t ever measure up, you know? Granda can never put his hand on Da’s head and do the whole ‘well-done-thou-good-and-faithful-servant’ crap.”

“I…what?”

“Your Da has spent his whole damn life trying to be General Piotr, and Aral Vorkosigan. You know that.”

“Yeah. I suppose.” Though if Da spent his whole life overshadowed, and he (figuratively) towered over Alex, what did that make Alex? An enshadowed shadow? The bottom of the totem pole, nose pressed into the dirt?

“Well, your Da is alive. And he is, eventually, a reasonable person. I think he might be a little more understanding of an inferiority complex than you think.”

“You…might be right,” Alex sighed, leaning back on the bed.

“You taking a nap?”

“No, just a headache,” Alex said “but keep playing. I’m listening.”

“Promise?” Seb smiled. It was different from his usual heart melting aren’t-I-a-perfect-physical-specimen smile that he did for pictures and the Count’s constituents. It was something lopsided, something sweet. Something just for Alex.

“Yeah. Always.”

Seb kept playing and Alex closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he muttered “Pretty. What is it?”

“It’s your song, silly. I wrote it just for you.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“I do,” Seb allowed “but for you, it’s true.”

Alex listened as Seb played on, and thankfully the outer door to his suite was locked and the door to his bedroom closed, so Alex could barely hear it when Padma Shiv rattled the door handle, seeking entry.


	2. Nature Walk

It had started, like most of the most confusing elements of Alex's life, when he was fourteen years old.

He'd had... inklings, at fourteen. That maybe,  _just maybe_ , the fact that his brain stem and endocrine glands had nothing to say on the topic of girls wasn't, as a surreptitiously crammed psychological treatise had so soothingly suggested at twelve, a perfectly natural early adolescent fascination with the self and one's own body. That maybe there was a reason he always got kind of twitchy at school around the other boys. Why, oh god, why he'd spent like  _six months_ trying to pretend that weightlifting was a potential hobby, not because he aspired to a Herculean physique (curse Mother's delicate genes, anyhow) but because Roic was endlessly helpful and kind and tended to doff his shirt in the gym. 

So it wasn't... a complete surprise. 

The whole 'flooded Occupation sniper nest' was a bit of a curve ball, though. 

Da always celebrated the first day of spring with a week-long trip to Vorkosigan Surleau, the family lake house. The first day was always solemn - burning offerings at three graves, Granda, Great-Granda and some Armsman named Bothari or something. Then the following morning, after a lavish breakfast, Da would make it generally known that, since they spent ever so much time indoors in the cities, perhaps his six children would like to get the hell out of his house and leave him and his beautiful wife alone for, oh, five and a half days or so?

Never in so many words, but...

"I think it's so cute that your Ma and Da are still so... romantic," Sebastien drawled, walking apace with Alex in the dripping hills above the lake. Sebastien, a year older, was someone Alex had been peripherally friends with for... well, forever, since Da and Count Vorbretten were so close. Alex had invited him along because of a burning adolescent need to have someone not related to him around, Vorish inbreeding nonwithstanding.

"Oh my god, Vorbretten," Alex said.

"No, really. It's sweet." Sebastien grinned wickedly. "At his age. I hope I'm so, erm,  _vigorous_ -"

"Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh," Alex groaned into his hands. "Must you?"

"I think I must," Sebastien said, slinging a comradely arm around Alex's shoulder. Alex... twitched. "Buck up, Vorkosigan. Think genetically. You'll probably be a  _stallion_ at forty-"

"Why did I invite you along again?" Alex said, holding himself taut to avoid leaning into Sebastien's arm. That would be a bad idea. Way too obvious. Was he so starved for physical contact that he'd...

_You totally are, Vorkosigan._

"Because I'm pretty," Sebastien said affably. "Obviously."

" _Erk_ -" Alex said.

"Relax. Kidding. _Obviously_ you invited me because you thought, wrongly, though it's  _awfully_ sweet of you to think of me, that I might be a fan of tree moss," Sebastien said, giving the surrounding forest a critical glance. 

"You aren't?" Alex said, shrugging off Sebastien's arm. "Well, there goes your Winterfair present."

"Get with the program, Vorkosigan, I am a  _way_ more expensive date than that," Sebastien said. "Now, Alex. I do have a slightly more pressing question. Like, do you know where we are?"

"The woods," Alex said. 

"Good so far," Sebastien said, giving Alex a radiant smile that made him feel all... spoggly. "I actually meant - do you know where we are, in relation to the lakehouse? Because I need to pee. And I'm hungry. And I'm cold."

"We're outdoors. You can pee anywhere." Alex spread his arms wide, to encompass the Vorkosigan district and all its wonders. 

A brief, pained expression flickered across Sebastien's face. "Oh, fine," he said. "Like some backwoods savage. No peeking."

" _Why would I-_ "

"Alex, relax. It was a joke. Did your Da forget to turn on your sense of humor implant this morning?" Sebastien gave Alex a strange look, and stepped behind a tree to do his business. 

"I do  _too_ have a sense of humor," Alex grumbled to himself. It was a Thing about him at school, he knew. That Vorkosigan kid. Tightly wound. Must get it from his Da. Too quiet. Must get it from his Ma.

"Can't hear you, peeing."

"I wasn't  _talking_ to you," Alex said. 

"Oh, my mistake," Sebastien called from around the tree. "It  _was_ out loud, though, so you understand my confusion."

"Will you  _hurry up_?"

"Musn't rush things," Sebastien called. "My, this is soothing. I wonder what else we city mice have been missing."

"Infanticide. Secondary complications from radiation exposure."

Sebastien stepped back from around the tree. "You took the bloom right off that rose, Vorkosigan. Well done."

Alex shrugged. "S'true."

"Well, that's one of three. I'm still hungry and cold."

"We're outdoors," Alex said, spreading his arms wide again. "Kill something. Wear its pelt."

"Fur? In  _spring?_ " Sebastien said, mock aghast. "Are you trying to give your Aunt Alys a stroke?" 

"I know where we are," Alex said, who absolutely Did Not Know where they were. "You can't tell me you're ready to pack it in already. We've been out barely..." Alex said, glancing at his wristcom. Or he would, if he'd actually been, y'know, wearing it.

Erp.

"Barely any time at all," Alex said, concealing his panic. With mixed success, judging from the extremely dubious expression on Sebastien's face. 

"All the same, I _am_ ready to pack it in," Sebastien said, suspicion dawning on his (don't say handsome) face. 

"Okay, so we go... that way," Alex said. Forward momentum, as Da would say. 

"Are you sure...? I'm all turned around." 

"I'm sure," Alex said, voice filled with confidence as insubstantial, and transparent, as a soap bubble. "Home is  _this_ way."

 

<><><>

 

It was not, in fact, that way. 

"If you wanted an update," Sebastien said, looking disgruntled. "I'm even hungrier."

"We're almost there," Alex said. 

"And colder."

"Great." 

"Is it treason to cannibalize a Count's Heir? Especially if he got you  _lost in the woods_ _?_ " 

"I'm not lost!" Alex snapped. "I'm just... ah... temporarily misplaced."

"Oh.  _Well._ " 

"We'll be-"

"Far be it from me-"

"Sebastien-"

"It's just this has  _way_ too little erotic statuary and exotic Nexus strippers to be where I always planned to die-"

"Seb-"

"And just imagine the headlines, the _conspiracies_ -"

"Sebastien! Would you just  _lay off_ for a second?" Alex snapped, patience suddenly going up in smoke like an Emperor's Birthday sparkler. 

Silence, blessed silence reigned, and Alex savored it, until he realized Sebastien wasn't following him anymore. Alex turned, to find the other boy staring at his feet. 

"I'm, ah, sorry," Sebastien said, flushing. "I know I can be... a little much. Everyone says I talk too much."

That was true, Alex supposed. Sebastien  _was_ always talking. Alex had been around him long enough to realize that while Sebastian gabbed constantly, always on display, always trying to amuse, the semantic content was usually zero. Which either meant that Sebastien was every bit the foppish dimwit he played, which Alex knew he wasn't, or he was camouflaging. Rather like Alex, if in a more... verbose manner. 

"I'm sorry for snapping," Alex said, shamefaced. The only thing worse than Sebastien going off on one, it turned out, was Sebastien looking unsure of himself. He much preferred Sebastien talkative. Ebullient. 

_...Beautiful?_

_Quiet you,_ Alex said sternly to his brain stem. And parts beyond.

"It's fine. I know I'm tremendously annoying, it's part of my charm."

"Well-" Alex began.

"And you're tremendously intimidating. It's part of yours. I guess," Sebastien allowed.

Alex blinked. "I'm... what?"

"Oh my God," Sebastien said, laughing. "Do you not  _know?_ That's  _not on purpose?_ "

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alex said, bewildered.

"Do you think people at school clear out of your way out of respect for your social connections?" Sebastien said. "You're so quiet, and you're so... intense, and you're the smartest person in our class, and you never ever seem to want anything from anyone, or care anything for their opinion..."

"I do?" Alex said. He was  _terrified_ of his classmates. Or at least... terrified of any of them getting close. He had Helen for that. 

"You never talk, you're always reading. Your Da can order executions. I tell people we're friends and they  _applaud my courage._ "

"I talk, just... not at school," Alex said, feeling an urge to clam up then and there. 

"Or at the dinner table."

"Well, Helen has me covered," Alex said, ducking his chin in a futile effort to hide his blush. 

"You're blushing."

 _Really_ futile.

"No I'm not, Vorbretten," Alex said, turning a fetching mauve. 

"You  _so_ are."

"You need your fucking eyes checked," Alex said, in a fair-to-middling impression of Da's _I'm The Imperial Auditor And I Have The Biggest Set to Swing Around, So There, Na Na Na Na_  voice. 

"Oooooh, scary. I'm shaking in my boots here. Quiver quiver."

"Da's the intimidating one. I can't even put the scare into some skinny pretty boy on a nature walk."

"Ha! So you _do_ think I'm pretty."

Alex supposed he walked right into that one. "Sebastien... can we... not? I have a headache."

"Sorry, sorry. I'll try to keep it under wraps." Sebastien mimed taping his mouth shut, then instantly opened it.  _Of course._  "But, since we're both... Alex, I know you're lost. You've been all Vormanly about it, and trust me, I'm ready to swoon onto the nearest divan, but maybe it's time to call one of your Armsmen."

Alex, smiling ruefully, slid the sleeve of his thermal shirt back to show Sebastien his bare wrist. 

Sebastien blinked, comprehension dawning. "Oh... we  _do_ have a bit of a problem, don't we?"

Right on cue, there was a distant rumble of thunder from the lead-grey sky above. 

"Maybe we have a couple of problems," Alex said, trying, and failing, to keep the panic out of his voice. 

 

<><><>

 

The storm didn't break so much as explode. 

Both of them were instantly drenched, stumbling through the woods, and  Sebastien's awkward encounter with a tree root, followed by Alex's touching but counterproductive lunge to keep him upright, ensured they were muddy as well.

"It doesn't rain like this in the Vorbretten district! Just saying!" Sebastien yelled over the storm. Lightning, a lot closer this time, flashed across the sky, followed way too soon by a tooth-rattling blast of thunder.

"If I die, you are  _no longer invited_ to my birthday party!" Sebastien said as they darted between the trees. Visibility was down to, oh, about five feet in any direction.

"I didn't want to go to your stupid- SHIT!" Alex screamed, as this time, his foot was the one that misjudged. Sebastien made a futile grab for him, but Alex lost his footing completely and rolled at least twenty feet down the side of the hill, hitting - he counted- four billion rocks, tree roots, land mines, stabby Cetegandan art installations and every single drop of mud on the entire benighted planet before he rolled to a stop.

"Ow," he said weakly, because he figured beating the ground with his fists and howling like a dog would alarm Sebastien.

"Oh my god, Alex!" Sebastien said, managing to slip and slide his way down the hill without losing his footing. Mostly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great," Alex said, giving a blearly thumbs-up.

"Can you-" 

"I can walk," Alex said, starting to lever himself up, and quickly realizing that his left wrist and right ankle were in rebellion, and no longer acknowledged his sovereignty. He fell back into the mud with an undignified squawk. 

Sebastien looked pale, under his drenched mop of blond hair. "Alex, I don't know what to do... will they even be able to find us?"

"Wait," Alex said, dragging his head a scant few inches off the ground, and pointing at a low mound about a hundred feet away, across a low clearing. "Is that... a  _door?_ "

 

<><><>

 

It took the better part of twenty minutes to cross the flooded clearing, Sebastien holding Alex upright. His ankle was either broken or seriously upset with him, and wouldn't take his weight. 

"You're not heavy, you're my friend," Sebastien panted, tightening his grip around Alex. Even half-drowned, covered in mud, possibly crippled for life, and soaking wet, Alex's useless brain took time to note that Sebastien's arm felt... good. Really, really good. 

 _I am an idiot,_ Alex thought to himself, and listened to the resounding silence as nothing in him disagreed. 

The door turned out to be riveted steel; from the bits of paint flaking off the corners, it had once been painted brown and green. It wasn't locked, thankfully, and Sebastien sort of... propped Alex against the door frame, like a mop, and wrenched it open with a few muttered profanities. Inside, the darkness loomed. 

"If this thing is full of skeletons or angry ghosts, Vorkosigan..."

"It'd still have to be better than the rain," Alex said, closing his eyes and resting his head against the door frame. 

The small concrete room, it turned out, was full of nothing but dust and some assorted creepy crawlies that gave the two of them a wide berth. Alex was too exhausted, not to mention cold, hungry, and in pain, to care. Sebastien managed to get him settled on the floor. He left the door open a sliver, which let in a tiny amount of light.

"Well," Sebastien said, sitting down himself, next to Alex. "Never let it be said you don't know how to show a boy a good time."

"That's me, a charmer," Alex said, laughing a bit. Which hurt, for the record. 

"You do alright," Sebastien said, quirking an eyebrow. "You might have at least bought me dinner first."

"You've had dinner with me loads of times."

"But you've never  _bought_ me dinner," Sebastien insisted. "Just because Ma Kosti is the best cook in Vobarr Sultana is no excuse. There's a principle involved."

"I'm very principled."

"No flowers, no chocolates..." Sebastien sighed. 

"Seb..." Alex said. "Why do you tease me like that?"

"Like what?"

"All the... flowers and chocolates thing." Alex said. It was very confusing. As was the fact that Sebastien was sitting right next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Alex didn't  _like_ being confused.

"Well, you don't have pigtails for me to pull," Sebastien said, his lightning-fast grin gleaming like a furtive moon in the gloomy sniper nest. He reached up and grabbed a lock of Alex's black hair and gave it a playful yank, before Alex, sputtering, slapped his hand away.

"Meaning... what?" Alex asked, confused. Trust Sebastien to talk in circles. Or spirals. Or Klein bottles...

Sebastien sighed, exasperated, and closed his eyes as he rested his head on the concrete wall behind them. "My god, you're dense. Which I knew, actually, since I just had to haul your heavy carcass for like  _ten miles_ -"

"That wasn't even-"

"But fine, though I hope you realize this hurts me, hurts my  _soul_ , Vorkosigan, but I'll be direct. What I've been doing is flirting with you."

"Flirting," Alex said, voice steady.

"Yes," Sebastien said. "Also known as a mode of behavior designed to indicate romantic or sexual interest. Perhaps you've come across the concept in one of your books."

"Flirting," Alex repeated.

"Yes, Alex," Sebastien said patiently.

"With... me."

"I could hardly be flirting with anyone else."

"Because you... have... feelings. For me," Alex said. 

"Well sure," Sebastien said. "You're cute, you're kind of scary, I suspect you might be completely hopeless in a social setting. You usually smell nice. What's not to like?"

"I, uh," Alex said, as he felt the rusty gears of his brain grind to a halt. 

"If you're not interested, don't worry," Sebastien said, airily but not convincingly so. "I'll go soothe my sorrows with one of our classmates. Darrick, perhaps. Or whatshisface, the Greekie with the nice shoulders."

"Theophilus," Alex said, then clamped his mouth shut.

"Yes, thank you, Alex. That's  _absolutely_ the question I wanted an answer to right now." Sebastien bit his lower lip and met Alex's eyes. Alex didn't like Sebastien uncertain, either.

"I... thinkihavefeelingslikethattoo," Alex said, all in one breath. He figured, worse case, he could always just throw himself on the mercy of the storm.

Sebastien was close, Alex noticed, very close. His breath was warm on Alex's face, about the only warm thing in the universe right then. 

"Oh, good," Sebastien breathed, and rested a hand, very gently, on Alex's collarbone. It felt like it weight several tons.

A moment passed.

"Alex, in case this is  _another_ social cue you're oblivious to, this is the exact perfect moment to kiss me."

So Alex did. It was... well, it was interesting, for sure. His breath hitched in his chest as their lips met, locked. Kissing was... weird. If Alex thought about it, it was really nothing more than mucus membranes, and there was no _biological_ mechanism for why the errant flicker of Sebastien's tongue should feel so electrifying-

Alex made a hungry-slash-angry noise deep in his chest, and used his good arm to pull Sebastien closer. 

Sebastien's marvelous musician's hands slid down Alex's chest, then back up. It felt... nice. Really nice. 

"You've done this before," Alex noted during a break for air. He felt Sebastien's lips smile against his own. 

"Once or twice," Sebastien conceded. 

"What else can..." Alex bit back a truly embarrassing question. 

"Lots," Sebastien said, sitting back and smiling at Alex. "And, I mean, if we're both going to die out here..."

"You're a genius," Alex said. "Really. That's the best idea, ever, in all of history."

"We can start with the basics," Sebastien said. "Now, when mommy and daddy-"

"You are such an ass!" Alex protested, laughing. He pulled Sebastien down for another kiss. 

And shoved him away, after a few breathless instants, when someone outside yelled, distressingly loud, "Lord Vorkosigan!"

"Ah," Sebastien said, looking a little bit put out. "The cavalry. We're in here!"

Armsman Roic, looking pale, came crashing through the door, holding a flashlight. When he saw the two bedraggled, worse-for-wear boys, he bit back a very un-Roic like swear. "Jankowski! They're in here."

Armsman Jankowski appeared presently, with a medkit. Though a little annoyed at the interruption, Alex had to concede that synergine was a  _wonderful_ substance.  And, confused though his feelings were, and embarassing as it was, Roic carrying him bride-style to the lightflyer was kind of fun too. Sebastien had looked hopefully for similar treatment from Jankowski, which the older man politely ignored. Alex's gracious (muscular) Armsmen even brought hot chocolate in a pair of flasks, bless Ma Kosti and her thoughtfulness. 

It was only as they were flying back, when he and Sebastien were in the back of the lightflyer together (Alex was looking at his hands to avoid the slightly proprietary, slightly predatory look on Sebastien's face) that something occurred to him. 

"How'd they know where to find us?" Alex wondered, snugging himself deeper under the pile of warm blankets Roic had basically cocooned him in. Synergined, wrist and ankle taped, and sipping hot chocolate, Alex felt closer to human with every passing moment.

Sebastien kept his smirk within reasonable limits as he held up an arm and pulled his sleeve down to reveal his wristcom.

"I put in a "general distress" beacon," Sebastien said. " _I_ never leave home without mine. I didn't figure they'd be so damn quick about it."

"You mean..."

"I wanted a moment alone with you, yes," Sebastien said. "And don't think I didn't noticed you going all fainting maiden in Roic's tan, muscular arms. 'Oh,  _sir,'"_ Sebastian claimed in a swooning falsetto. "'What _eva_ would I do without mah armsmen?'"

"Shut up, he'll  _hear you_ ," Alex hissed. There was only a thin partition between the two of them and the front compartment

Sebastien grinned like a loon. "Thankfully, I'm not the jealous type. But still. Timing," he sighed.

They flew on in silence. Alex steeled himself. 

"Our rooms," Alex said. "They do, ah. Adjoin."

Sebastien brightened. "That's true, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Alex said, turning bright crimson as he set his hand down on the seat between then, flushing still deeper when Sebastien took it. 

 

<><><>

 

If Alex had ever doubted his parent's love, which of course he never had, he would have been reassured by the to-do upon their arrival back at the lakehouse. All the Armsmen, four out of five siblings, Mother and Da all having what looked like simultaneous panic attacks, scuttling in all directions like chickens. Ma Kosti, elderly now and watching from the warm, rain-free doorway, wept piteously with relief into an oversize hanky. She was very fond of all of the Vorkosigan children, Gods alone knew why. 

"What on  _earth_ were you two thinking," Da growled, pulling Alex into a rough embrace that he allowed, as it was a special occasion. "Of all the reckless, harebrained, idiotic, foolish, dangerous-"

"Miles," Mother said quiet-but-firm.

Da cocked his head, smiled ruefully, and pulled Alex into another embrace. "You're my son, all right." 

"It was an accident," Alex said. "I, uh, forgot my wristcom."

"We know," Da said, limping back to give Roic the room to help Alex out of the lightflyer. "We used a locator once you didn't show up for dinner, and surprise surprise, my missing son-and-heir was hiding under a pile of dirty laundry, fifty feet from the dinner table. Or so we hoped."

"Whoops," Alex said. 

"Whoops indeed," Mother murmured. "Are you alright, Lord Sebastien?"

"I'm fine, milady," Sebastien said. "It's your son-and-heir who's been plowing hillsides with his face."

Alex, hand where Mother couldn't see it, made an obscene gesture. Sebastien smirked. 

"You are a big dumb idiot jerkface," Helen said, hands on hips.

"Helen," Ekaterin said, less quiet but more firm, this time.

"Love you too, sis."

Meanwhile, Miles was, as a priority second only to ascertaining the safety of his son, unruffling the feathers of his cook.

"Everything is fine, Myra, everything is fine," Da from the doorway said, massaging Ma Kosti's hands. He reached up and patted her tear-streaked cheek. "See? All safe and sound." 

Ma Kosti looked out at Alex and Sebastien, and took one last sniffle. "Get cleaned up," she said to both of them with the air of a judge pronouncing a grim fate. "I'll have dinner ready for you in thirty," before she turned on her heels and stalked back into the house. 

"Oh, you're in trouble now," Da said, shaking his head. "Fed, but in trouble. Alex..." 

"Yes, da?"

"I'm so glad you're alright. But if you ever do anything like this again, I'm locking you in your bedroom under my Auditor's seal until you reach your majority, got it?"

"Aww, could I at least come and visit?" Sebastien said, innocence itself. Alex choked on his last mouthful of hot chocolate. 

"I'll take your offer under advisement, Lord Sebastien," Da said loftily. "Now, for God's sake, let's get out of the rain."

 

<><><>

 

Later- fed, showered, and languid with exhaustion, but glad, so glad, to be in his warm, brightly lit bedroom- there came a knock on Alex's door. The adjoining one. 

Alex called, "Come in," and reached for his shirt. He was still struggling into it when Sebastien entered.  _He_ wasn't wearing a shirt, just a pair of loose drawstring pants, and he was really much more appealing when he was all clean and fluffy. Like a puppy. 

"Hi," Alex said, intelligently. 

"Hi," Sebastien said. "I thought we might continue our conversation from earlier. Unless you're to tired."

"Too tired, am I Hell," Alex growled. "Get over here."

"Ooh, so masterful, so Countly-" Sebastien giggled as Alex limped his way over. He met Alex halfway; by the time they surfaced for air, he had an arm wrapped around Alex's neck, the better to pull him close and the other hand played idly with the line of black hair under Alex's navel. Alex cursed Vorbretten ingenuity to the skies. Really he did. 

"You said you had, uh, things to show me," Alex said. 

"I do. It might take awhile, though..."

"Do you hear that?" Alex said, cocking his head. "That's the sound of my schedule opening up. Really fast."

"Why Lord Vorkosigan... you  _do_ have a sense of humor."

 

<><><>

 

Alex... didn't feel bad, the next morning. Not guilty, certainly. And whatever his feelings, it hadn't stopped him from grabbing Sebastien on his way to the shower and kissing him like his life depended on it. No, what he felt was something a little more elemental than that. Panic, maybe. Raw, unthinking panic. 

He managed to avoid the eyes of every living human, Sebastien included, at breakfast. Thankfully, this was standard Alex Behavior, so it didn't arouse any suspicions. 

Da was right out. Helen... ahahaha. No. His other siblings? Roic?  _Ma Kosti?_ No, there was really only one option, short of flying to Sergyar. 

He ran his mother to ground in her workroom. People mistook Ekaterin Nile Vorvayne Vorssoissin Vorkosigan as a well of serenity, the flatline to her husbands wildly fluctuating EKG. It was a complete misapprehension, Alex knew. She was every bit as hyperactive as Da, she was just... quieter about it. Seven children, a District, a husband who could be most politely described as  _labor intensive_ , and a hugely successful business on the side. People threw ludicrous sums of money at her, all for the privilege of having a discreet bronze plaque with EKNVVV embossed on it in the corner of their exquisite gardens. Hovering in the air above her desk was a holo of the Vobarr Sultana Concert Hall.

"You got the commission?" Alex said, temporarily sidelined. 

"That's still up in the air," Mother demurred. "I put in a bid, certainly. I'm just working on the preliminaries now." 

Alex effortlessly translated this as  _I got the job, but I don't have the cash in hand_ yet. With his family, he'd grown up fluent in Subtle, Corkscrew, Blatant, Betan (thanks Grandma) and Wild Card. 

"Congratulations," he said. She smiled. 

"How are you feeling, love?" She asked, turning the holo off. He promised himself not to keep her for long. 

"Oh, I'm fine. Little sore," he said, wincing as he tested his ankle. Armsman Jankowski had instructed him to stay off it for at least two days, and had muttered something something  _runs in the family_ something something when Alex ignored that directive. 

"Good," Mother said. "Now, never do that again. Ever." 

"I hadn't planned on it."

"Even better," Mother said, lips quirking.

"I... uh, need to talk to you about something."

"Of course, Alex. What is it? Sit down, sit down." 

Alex sat. Mother sat as well, in her much larger chair, and she... had that  _look_ , that she got. That look that told Alex he had her full attention, for however long he needed it. 

"You, uh..." Alex said, mouth dry. "You may have noticed I don't... girls."

Mother cocked her head, inviting Alex to continue. 

"I haven't had any girlfriends," Alex said, skirting wide around the issue.

"Alex, you're fourteen," Mother said with a rueful smile. "Contrary to what your Uncle Ivan says..."

"No, that's not it. I mean, what if I don't? What if I... never?" 

"Alex, love, it's not a race..." Ekaterin said. 

"What if..." Alex, true to his heritage, decided  _screw it_ and charged over the precipice. "What if... just hypothetically, just wondering... what if I like a boy? Like... romantically. What if... would it be okay... what if I'm..." Alex swallowed a few words for it, some scientific, some colloquial, some repulsive prole slang he wished he didn't have in his head, just now. "What if it's boys?"

Alex looked up and was alarmed to see tears standing in his mother's eyes. 

"Mother, I didn't, I don't, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, are you angry with me, are you disappointed with me-" he said, fear and desperation bursting into sudden flame. Mother moved instantly around the desk, pulled him up, and drew him close, clenching him tightly against her. He knew she felt him shaking, and couldn't make himself stop. 

"No," Ekaterin said. "No, never think that.  _Never._ " Rare emotion colored his mothers voice. He would have been alarmed, under ordinary circumstances.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. Mother released him, and leaned back against the desk. Her knuckles were white where she clutched it for support.

Ekaterin wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, shaking her head in denial "Alex, no. Of course I wouldn't- I wouldn't be upset, not with you. Not ever. It wouldn't change anything, not for me, not for anyone who loves you. You know that. Please tell me that you know that."

"I... I know that. I was worried, for a second, that's all..."

"It's just... Alex, if, hypothetically, that were true..." Ekaterin steeled herself. "People, Barryarans, would be cruel to you. Not people who mattered. But people. And... I wish that I could prevent that. Stand between you and the world forever. If people said evil, hateful things to you..." She shook her head. "I never knew where your grandmother found it in herself to take her famous shopping trip. Now I know."

"You'd really Emperor Vidal a bunch of people for me?" Alex said, obscurely touched.

Maybe his family was weird. 

"I would do anything for you," Mother said, smiling. "But, one of the things I have learned - what every parent learns, to their everlasting sorrow- is that I can give you everything that's in me, Alex, but I can't make you happy, and I can't keep you safe. Not forever."

"Thank you," Alex managed. This time, he embraced _her_ , and tried not to get tears in her hair. They were the same height, all of a sudden.

"Don't tell Da," Alex whispered.

"Alex-"

" _Don't tell Da,_ " Alex said desperately. "Don't tell him - it'll kill him - he needs me to be perfect, he needs me to be  _him_ , don't tell him. Please."

"If... that's what you want, Alex," Mother said sadly. "Though I think you're doing your father a serious injustice."

"Mother... I can't. I'm sorry. Soon. But... not now." 

"Oh, my son," Mother said, shaking her head. "I suppose you wouldn't be a Vorkosigan if you did things the easy way, would you?" 

"I guess not," Alex said, snorting. 

"So I assume we'll be seeing rather a lot of Lord Sebastien?" Mother said directly. Switching family dialects; curse her. 

"I think... yes," Alex squeaked. 

"Good," Ekaterin said, hiding a smile, and moving around back to her chair. "He's a nice boy, that one."

"Yes, he is," Alex said, before he limped around to kiss her hand, and excused himself. 

 

<><><>

 

Alex, seventeen-going-on-eighteen, weeks from the Imperial Service Academy, rolled over in bed with a groan. He spent a moment listening to the Baby Squadron making early morning noises, and cursed sleepless nights. 

He and Sebastien hadn't been a  _thing_ , right away. Friends, bedmates, sure. Sebastien had flirted his way through every monosexually inclined boy in the Vorlinkin Academy; Alex had a brief, disastrous relationship with an Escobaran exchange student, the more mortifying moments of which still haunted his dreams with appalling regularity. For almost two years, though, Alex and Sebastien had been a Thing. A most decided Thing. A Thing Alex wanted to last forever, and was reasonably sure Sebastien agreed.

And Alex still hadn't told his Da. And something told him (maybe it was his mother's wise voice, in his mind) that Sebastien was patient, and Sebastien was forgiving, and Sebastien loved him, but that Sebastien wouldn't wait forever. And even if he would, it would be wrong of Alex to ask him to. But the risks. The dangers. The people with their cruelty, Da with his disappointment...

 _Sebastien is worth taking risks for_.

Alex squashed this errant, stomach-acid-producing thought and rolled over in bed. If he couldn't be well-rested, at least he could avoid the world - and the Baby Squadron downstairs- for a little bit longer. 


End file.
